


Trophy

by IowaGuy1979



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: AU Rachel and Chloe make it to LA, Depression, Drug Use, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-21 12:30:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21074945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IowaGuy1979/pseuds/IowaGuy1979
Summary: They had finally fucking made it!But, then why did Chloe feel so damned hollow?





	Trophy

Chloe awoke, sniffing. She had a headache, but, she knew the cure for that. She looked around the living room, sometimes moving hands of unconscious fellow partygoers. And came up empty.  
“Dammit! Thought there’d still be some goddamned blow around here. Fucking greedy assholes!”  
She stumbled into the bathroom, and splashed some water, because, fuck her eyes burned.  
As she stood up, she looked in the mirror. And saw a ghost staring back.  
Well, a damn well dressed ghost, at any rate. They weren’t that expensive though, she considered. She just had to sell her soul for them.  
“How the hell did I get here?”, she wondered. It seemed like just yesterday they were back in Arcadia Bay, making plans to escape that damned shit pit.  
It took Chloe finally getting that waitress job at the Two Whales. That photography teacher, Jefferson, had been talked to Rachel about modeling. But, Chloe actually being able to save towards their escape had given her more hope that they would really leave Arcadia Bay. So, she turned down his offers. They were even able to pay back Frank.  
It took what seemed like decades. Thankfully, Joyce hadn’t starting charging Chloe rent, after she started her job. Three months after Rachel’s graduation, they rolled down through California, eventually hitting Los Angeles. They’d fucking done it, they’d made it out.  
They had enough to put down security and first three months rent on a shitty studio apartment. Chloe worked at a auto repair shop, a couple miles away. Rachel worked part time at a coffee shop, across the street from their apartment building. She worked her ass off, in her free time, putting head shots (that had ate into the little they had,but, she said it was an investment) out, and getting some roles in a local theater company. 

Chloe worked on fixing broken transmissions, timing belts, and shit, while Rachel got larger and larger roles.  
One year after they had landed in the city of the angels, Rachel burst into the apartment. Chloe had a rare day off, so she was watching Netflix with beer in hand. “There’s gonna be a critic at the show, Saturday night, at our last show! Lindsay said she had heard from her cousin, who works in the Entertainment section at the Times. This could be it, Chlo!”  
“That’s fuckin amazeballs, Rach!”, she smiled.  
“Do you have to work?”, Rachel said.  
“No, and even if I did, I’d give them some damn excuse. Not gonna miss out on my angel finally getting her wings!”  
“You fucking dork.”, She smirked.  
“Yeah, but, YOUR fucking dork”, Chloe grinned.  
They drew closer and shared a tender kiss.

On Saturday night, Chloe headed out to the playhouse. She’d wore a white button down, and tan slacks. She’d bitched about looking like a waiter, but, Rachel said she wasn’t going to have her look like her usual lazy self, on what might be such a important night. Rachel had gone in 2 hours ago, to run through her lines and get everything down, one final time.  
As she pulled up, Chloe looked out the windshield of her rustbucket truck, and smiled. They were performing ‘The Tempest’. How could she forget the lines they had said to each other, in Mr. Keaton’s play? She remembered them like it was yesterday. She could see Rachel in her Prospera costume, right now. “We shall fly beyond this isle. The corners of the world our mere prologue. ..What sayest thou to my most hopeful wish?”  
They both knew the answer to that, now. She went inside, found a seat.  
At the end, Chloe clapped so hard, she thought her palms would bleed.  
Rachel had kicked fucking ass, as Prospera, once again. Then again, she knew the part already. At the stage door, she grabbed Rachel and spun her around. “You did it, babe! I knew you would kick ass!”  
“Not without you around, Chloe.”, she smiled. “Jimmy’s taking me to the cast party. You going to be OK going home?”  
“Yeah, Rach, I’ll be OK.”, Chloe grinned.

**************************************************

Chloe saw the memory fade in the bathroom mirror. The critic’s review of the play, specifically of Rachel, had garnered 10,000 hits in the two days afterward.  
The review caught the attention of a mid level suit at Warner Brothers. The first few roles weren’t even speaking ones, but, as time passed, she got bigger roles.  
Which led them to here, Chloe in a outfit paid for by Rachel. Rachel sleeping off a coke binge, with so damn many people they didn’t even know. Their apartment was a hell of a lot better than that first shithole, but, was only a bit above average for L.A.  
The worst part was the Industry, Chloe could always hear the capital whenever anyone spoke it. Rachel had quickly fallen into the parties and coke binges that Hollywood was famous for.  
At first Chloe had wondered what was happening to her, to them.  
But, with her fucking addictive personality, she’d followed Rachel right along, soon enough.  
Rachel had gotten more controlling, as the months went on. Guess being a drug addled movie actress wasn’t really mentally healthy, Chloe chuckled darkly.  
Looking at her red rimmed eyes, she didn’t know who the fuck she was anymore, or who Rachel was either.  
“C..Chlo”, her slurred voice called from the living room, “where the hell are you? Better not have done the rest of this shit!”  
Chloe moved out onto the balcony, shedding the satin shackles that Rachel had put on her.  
“God, Rachel., “she whispered. “I almost wish we were dead, than in this hell..”. A few tears slipped down her cheek.  
She couldn’t live like this anymore, Rachel and she had both changed too much.  
She stepped further out. A muffled “shit!” rang out, as a song blared out from what sounded like a laptop.

A powerful female voice soared

“I’m not a present for your friends to open  
This boy’s too young to be singing  
The blues”

“Goodbye, Rach. Even after all this shit, I still think of you as my golden haired angel.”  
With a sad smile, Chloe Price threw herself off of the 35th story. It was funny, even though she was falling faster down, she felt lighter than she had in so many years.

**Author's Note:**

> well, another thing I had to get out.  
I was going to listen to "Goodbye, Yellow Brick Road, when I saw a cover by Sara Bareilles was among the results.  
Clicked on it, and it took my breath away.  
I had a image of a Chloe dressed in expensive clothes, slowly taking them off. She walked outside, to a balcony, and threw herself off, with a peaceful smile on her face.  
I was originally going to have it be Victoria, but, then realized that Rachel was the natural choice.  
Thank you for reading my word garbage!
> 
> "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road" is owned by Elton John and Bernie Taupin, not I.


End file.
